For you, I would
by Fayth3
Summary: Spoilers for 4x03. Emma had some time to think and came to a startling conclusion.


**For you I would**

Emma lay on the icy ground, her eyes closed against the glaring white that surrounded her. She could hear Elsa's voice somewhere above her head muttering about reindeer and trolls but she couldn't focus. She couldn't focus on anything that wasn't the sheer agony in every single cell of her body.

But she supposed that agony was fine as it proved she was still alive. For now at least.

She'd almost lost track of how many times her life has been in danger since she'd arrived in Storybrooke. She'd been through everything, from car crashes to dragons, evil Queens to curses, poison, sleeping sickness, dimensional travel, and it was hypothermia that was going to kill her. Or was that hyperthermia. She could never remember.

Suddenly it seemed very important to remember the correct wordage that would be written on her death certificate.

A sudden shiver wracked her whole body like a seizure and she braced herself for the pinpricks of pain that danced along her spine as she jolted. God, she _hurt_.

Even her hair was in pain, every strand icy and heavy and just aching. She didn't realize that the human body could hurt quite this badly without shutting down. Maybe that was why she couldn't feel her feet.

The walkie talkie crackled and she heard her father's voice ringing loud over the static.

"Elsa? Elsa, how's Emma?"

The woman let go of her hand and stumbled over to the device. "She's freezing. Turning blue."

The panicked tone had Emma opening her eyes. Blue? She liked blue but that didn't sound like a good thing

"EMMA!" The voice coming through the walkie talkie was hard, full of anger and frustration and then there was the sound of hacking. Metallic chinks against ice like someone was chipping away with an ice pick. A pick axe. Or a hook. Hook.

Killian was there with her father, hacking away at the ice trying to get to her.

Her father's voice echoed around the ice chamber taking about living and surviving but Emma stopped hearing the words. There was just the soothing tones of Prince Charming, her father, reading her a story as she slipped into a hazy dreamlike state.

Then it was gone and Elsa rose to her feet, her arms gracefully rising to point at the wall. Emma opened her eyes as blinding white mist drifted from her fingertips towards the wall, swirling like a blizzard.

The intense concentration in Elsa's face turned her pretty features severe and steel blue eyes turned icy to match the power dancing from her hands.

The magic swirled and flurried.

And died.

Elsa dropped her hands. "It's no good," she whispered. "I can't do it."

Emma curled into a ball, unable to offer even slight encouragement. She was so cold. So tired. If she could only sleep. She felt flakes of snow touch her face and one eye opened to see white particles coming down.

There was a large creaking sound as the ceiling above her cracked. Elsa staggered back as the ground shook, ice falling from the sky as the entire ice cavern started to shake.

"Avalanche," Elsa screamed as the earth shifted. Stalactites the size of cars started to rain down, the ice shattering into the snow frozen floor.

One headed right for her but Emma couldn't move. The sheet of glass came hurtling down-

Emma screamed and jolted awake.

Disorientated and scared, Emma flailed against the prison she was trapped in, trying to fight her way out.

"Hey, Emma, love, take it easy. You're alright."

The calm measured tone did the trick. Emma sucked in a deep breath and stopped attacking the blankets she was wrapped up in.

"Killian?"

The dashing pirate sitting in the chair by her side gave her a worn smile. "I'm here."

Here was her parent's loft in Storybrooke. Here wasn't an ice cavern of death or a falling ice pick. Here was home.

She sighed in relief, shoving her hair back off her damp forehead. "Right."

"Bad dreams, love?"

Emma nodded. "Well, it wasn't a room on fire populated by sleeping beauty, but yeah."

He frowned and Emma waved her hand. "Family thing."

"I see. Are you warm enough?"

While she was sleeping the last of the chill had gone and she was toasty warm. But still the memory of that snow prison made her shiver. Killian went to stand, presumably to get her another blanket but she stopped him.

"I'm ok, just… give me a minute."

"As you wish." He settled back in his chair and Emma reached for his hand, entwining their fingers together.

His hand was warm and strong against hers. She could feel the calluses on his palms, proof that he worked hard to make his living, even if it was by stealing. They weren't the soft dainty hands of an accountant or office worker but hands that fought and struggled. They were hands she could rely on.

She knew that even before he had pulled her out of the ice hole. She had felt it when he tried to stop her falling into the portal to the Enchanted Forest. She had felt it when he danced with her. When he saved her life, when she saved his; even when they fought.

She traced a scar along his index finger, her nails brushing over the silver rings, wondering if they had a special significance or if they were just for show.

Maybe one day she'd ask him and he'd tell her his secrets.

She glanced up to see him watching their hands with a bewildered longing that he tried to hide when he caught her looking at him.

He forced a smile. "Penny for your thoughts, love?"

She shook her head. "You're here."

He frowned. "Of course I am."

"I mean… you stayed."

"The boy was tuckered out and their highnesses had a small wailing thing to deal with. I wasn't going to leave you alone, Swan. You should know me better than that."

"I do." She whispered.

"Say what?" he leaned in closer.

"Something Elsa said, when we were in the cave." Emma looked away from his searing blue gaze. It was hard to talk, hard to think when those crystal eyes fixed her in their sights. She focused on their fingers instead. "She was telling me about her sister, about Anna. She said that she spent so long pushing her away, believing that Anna would be in danger being close to her. Pushing everyone away becomes a habit. Then one day she looked around and she was alone. She'd spent so long concealing herself that she was totally shut off, trapped in an ice castle with only a snowman for company."

"Snowman?"

Emma nodded. "And I though my life was weird. But, here's the kicker, Anna never left. She wasn't happier at being pushed away. She wasn't even safer. She was lonely. They both were."

"You feel some kinship with the Ice Queen?"

"Some," Emma tightened her grip. "After Neal I locked everyone out. Needing someone was a weakness I couldn't afford. I was going to be strong and I was going to do it all on my own. And no one was going to hurt me because I didn't care, I didn't need anyone I was strong. Then Henry showed up and-" she sighed, frustrated, "and there were actually people that I cared about again. But I kept pushing them away because it's what you know, right? It's, like, habit."

"Aye." There was something in his voice that made her want to look up but she kept her eyes on their hands, tracing his rings with her fingertips.

"You conceal what you feel and don't let anyone see it because you need to be strong. But then you end up alone in an ice prison and all you can think about is those people and how you wish they were there with you because they make it easier. David, Mary Margaret, Henry and… you." She swallowed. "And you realise that maybe, just maybe strength is being able to lean on someone. Trusting that they'll be there for you when you wake up. True strength is letting yourself be weak for someone."

"Emma," he breathed and she felt him move closer.

"Since we've met you've been there. You're just _there_. I don't even know how you find me half the time. It's like you have Saviour GPS or something but, just when I need you or think I don't need you, you show up. You believe in me when I don't even believe in myself. And you let me talk crap." She laughed a little at herself.

Then the cool touch of metal on her chin forced her meet his eyes finally. His deep blue eyes suspiciously damp and his expression filled with such emotion that it stole her breath.

"I will always believe in you, especially when you don't believe in yourself, love. You are the strongest bloody woman I know. I know all about cutting yourself off from people. All I had in my mind was vengeance for three hundred years. You gave me a reason to fight, to be strong, to live again. You make me weak and strong at the same time but there is no one I trust with that more."

A single tear dripped from her eye, sliding down her cheek. He caught it with the tip of his hook.

"One day maybe you'll feel the same."

"I- I think," she swallowed hard. "It's not easy for me, okay? I want to try. But if there is anyone I… Killian? For you, I would."

The smile that lit up his face dazzled his eyes and made her heart lift right out of her chest.

"Emma, love," he whispered and leaned down to press his lips against hers. The soft sweep of his mouth over hers sent waves of warmth down her chest, settling over her heart.

His fingers finally left hers to cradle her head and angle her face so that he could deepen the kiss.

Emma could feel the promise in his touch and, somehow, she knew that she had made the right decision. She knew that the fear she had felt in that ice cave was nothing compared to the fear of losing this man to her own insecurities.

She was going to be strong. She was going to open her heart to this pirate and let him in. She never thought she would let herself love again.

But for him she would.


End file.
